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Noble patricians, patrons of my right,
Defend the justice of my cause with arms.
And countrymen, my loving followers,
Plead my successive title with your swords.
55I am his firstborn son that was the last
That wore the imperial diadem of Rome.
Then let my father’s honors live in me,
Nor wrong mine age with this indignity.
Romans, friends, followers, favorers of my right,
1010If ever Bassianus, Caesar’s son,
Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome,
Keep, then, this passage to the Capitol,
And suffer not dishonor to approach
The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate,
1515To justice, continence, and nobility;
But let desert in pure election shine,
And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice.
Princes that strive by factions and by friends
Ambitiously for rule and empery,
2020Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand
A special party, have by common voice,
In election for the Roman empery,
Chosen Andronicus, surnamèd Pius
For many good and great deserts to Rome.
2525A nobler man, a braver warrior,
Lives not this day within the city walls.
He by the Senate is accited home
From weary wars against the barbarous Goths,
That with his sons, a terror to our foes,
3030Hath yoked a nation strong, trained up in arms.
Ten years are spent since first he undertook
This cause of Rome, and chastisèd with arms
Our enemies’ pride. Five times he hath returned
Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons
3535In coffins from the field.
And now at last, laden with honor’s spoils,
Returns the good Andronicus to Rome,
Renownèd Titus flourishing in arms.
Let us entreat, by honor of his name
4040Whom worthily you would have now succeed,
And in the Capitol and Senate’s right,
Whom you pretend to honor and adore,
That you withdraw you and abate your strength,
Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should,
4545Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness.
How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts!
Marcus Andronicus, so I do affy
In thy uprightness and integrity,
And so I love and honor thee and thine,
5050Thy noble brother Titus and his sons,
And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all,
Gracious Lavinia, Rome’s rich ornament,
That I will here dismiss my loving friends,
And to my fortunes and the people’s favor
5555Commit my cause in balance to be weighed.
Friends that have been thus forward in my right,
I thank you all and here dismiss you all,
And to the love and favor of my country
Commit myself, my person, and the cause.
Saturninus’ Soldiers exit.
6060Rome, be as just and gracious unto me
As I am confident and kind to thee.
Open the gates and let me in.
Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor.
Romans, make way! The good Andronicus,
6565Patron of virtue, Rome’s best champion,
Successful in the battles that he fights,
With honor and with fortune is returned
From where he circumscribèd with his sword
And brought to yoke the enemies of Rome.
7070Hail Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds!
Lo, as the bark that hath discharged his fraught
Returns with precious lading to the bay
From whence at first she weighed her anchorage,
Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs,
7575To resalute his country with his tears,
Tears of true joy for his return to Rome.
Thou great defender of this Capitol,
Stand gracious to the rites that we intend.
Romans, of five-and-twenty valiant sons,
8080Half of the number that King Priam had,
Behold the poor remains alive and dead.
These that survive let Rome reward with love;
These that I bring unto their latest home,
With burial amongst their ancestors.
8585Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword.
Titus, unkind and careless of thine own,
Why suffer’st thou thy sons unburied yet
To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx?
Make way to lay them by their brethren.
They open the tomb.
9090There greet in silence, as the dead are wont,
And sleep in peace, slain in your country’s wars.
O sacred receptacle of my joys,
Sweet cell of virtue and nobility,
How many sons hast thou of mine in store
9595That thou wilt never render to me more?
Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths,
That we may hew his limbs and on a pile,
Ad manes fratrum, sacrifice his flesh
Before this earthy prison of their bones,
100100That so the shadows be not unappeased,
Nor we disturbed with prodigies on Earth.
I give him you, the noblest that survives,
The eldest son of this distressèd queen.
Stay, Roman brethren!—Gracious conqueror,
105105Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed,
A mother’s tears in passion for her son.
And if thy sons were ever dear to thee,
O think my son to be as dear to me.
Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome
110110To beautify thy triumphs and return
Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke,
But must my sons be slaughtered in the streets
For valiant doings in their country’s cause?
O, if to fight for king and commonweal
115115Were piety in thine, it is in these!
She kneels.
Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood.
Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
Draw near them then in being merciful.
Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge.
120120Thrice-noble Titus, spare my first-born son.
Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me.
These are their brethren whom your Goths beheld
Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain
Religiously they ask a sacrifice.
125125To this your son is marked, and die he must,
T’ appease their groaning shadows that are gone.
Away with him, and make a fire straight,
And with our swords upon a pile of wood
Let’s hew his limbs till they be clean consumed.
130130O cruel, irreligious piety!
Was never Scythia half so barbarous!
Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome!
Alarbus goes to rest and we survive
To tremble under Titus’ threat’ning look.
135135Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal
The selfsame gods that armed the Queen of Troy
With opportunity of sharp revenge
Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent
May favor Tamora the Queen of Goths
140140(When Goths were Goths, and Tamora was queen)
To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes.
See, lord and father, how we have performed
Our Roman rites. Alarbus’ limbs are lopped,
And entrails feed the sacrificing fire,
145145Whose smoke like incense doth perfume the sky.
Remaineth naught but to inter our brethren,
And with loud larums welcome them to Rome.
Let it be so. And let Andronicus
Make this his latest farewell to their souls.
Sound trumpets, and lay the coffin in the tomb.
150150In peace and honor rest you here, my sons,
Rome’s readiest champions, repose you here in rest,
Secure from worldly chances and mishaps.
Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells,
Here grow no damnèd drugs; here are no storms,
155155No noise, but silence and eternal sleep.
In peace and honor rest you here, my sons.
In peace and honor live Lord Titus long;
My noble lord and father, live in fame.
She kneels.
Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears
160160I render for my brethren’s obsequies,
And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy
Shed on this earth for thy return to Rome.
O bless me here with thy victorious hand,
Whose fortunes Rome’s best citizens applaud.
165165Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved
The cordial of mine age to glad my heart!—
Lavinia, live, outlive thy father’s days
And fame’s eternal date, for virtue’s praise.
Long live Lord Titus, my belovèd brother,
170170Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome.
Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus.
And welcome, nephews, from successful wars—
You that survive, and you that sleep in fame.
Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all,
175175That in your country’s service drew your swords;
But safer triumph is this funeral pomp,
That hath aspired to Solon’s happiness,
And triumphs over chance in honor’s bed.—
Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome,
180180Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been,
Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust,
This palliament of white and spotless hue,
And name thee in election for the empire
With these our late deceasèd emperor’s sons.
185185Be candidatus, then, and put it on
And help to set a head on headless Rome.
A better head her glorious body fits
Than his that shakes for age and feebleness.
To Tribunes and Senators aloft. What, should I don
190190this robe and trouble you?
Be chosen with proclamations today,
Tomorrow yield up rule, resign my life,
And set abroad new business for you all?
Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years,
195195And led my country’s strength successfully,
And buried one and twenty valiant sons,
Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms,
In right and service of their noble country.
Give me a staff of honor for mine age,
200200But not a scepter to control the world.
Upright he held it, lords, that held it last.
Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery.
Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell?
Patience, Prince Saturninus.
205205Romans, do me right.
Patricians, draw your swords and sheathe them not
Till Saturninus be Rome’s emperor.—
Andronicus, would thou were shipped to hell
Rather than rob me of the people’s hearts.
210210Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good
That noble-minded Titus means to thee.
Content thee, prince. I will restore to thee
The people’s hearts and wean them from themselves.
Andronicus, I do not flatter thee,
215215But honor thee, and will do till I die.
My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends,
I will most thankful be, and thanks, to men
Of noble minds, is honorable meed.
People of Rome, and people’s tribunes here,
220220I ask your voices and your suffrages.
Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus?
To gratify the good Andronicus
And gratulate his safe return to Rome,
The people will accept whom he admits.
225225Tribunes, I thank you, and this suit I make:
That you create our emperor’s eldest son,
Lord Saturnine, whose virtues will, I hope,
Reflect on Rome as Titan’s rays on Earth
And ripen justice in this commonweal.
230230Then, if you will elect by my advice,
Crown him and say “Long live our emperor.”
With voices and applause of every sort,
Patricians and plebeians, we create
Lord Saturninus Rome’s great emperor,
235235And say “Long live our Emperor Saturnine.”
Titus Andronicus, for thy favors done
To us in our election this day,
I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts,
And will with deeds requite thy gentleness.
240240And for an onset, Titus, to advance
Thy name and honorable family,
Lavinia will I make my empress,
Rome’s royal mistress, mistress of my heart,
And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse.
245245Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee?
It doth, my worthy lord, and in this match
I hold me highly honored of your Grace;
And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine,
King and commander of our commonweal,
250250The wide world’s emperor, do I consecrate
My sword, my chariot, and my prisoners,
Presents well worthy Rome’s imperious lord.
Receive them, then, the tribute that I owe,
Mine honor’s ensigns humbled at thy feet.
255255Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life.
How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts
Rome shall record.—And when I do forget
The least of these unspeakable deserts,
Romans, forget your fealty to me.
260260Now, madam, are you prisoner to an emperor,
To him that for your honor and your state
Will use you nobly, and your followers.
A goodly lady, trust me, of the hue
That I would choose, were I to choose anew.—
265265Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance.
Though chance of war hath wrought this change
of cheer,
Thou com’st not to be made a scorn in Rome.
Princely shall be thy usage every way.
270270Rest on my word, and let not discontent
Daunt all your hopes. Madam, he comforts you
Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths.—
Lavinia, you are not displeased with this?
Not I, my lord, sith true nobility
275275Warrants these words in princely courtesy.
Thanks, sweet Lavinia.—Romans, let us go.
Ransomless here we set our prisoners free.
Proclaim our honors, lords, with trump and drum.
Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine.
280280How, sir? Are you in earnest then, my lord?
Ay, noble Titus, and resolved withal
To do myself this reason and this right.
Suum cuique is our Roman justice.
This prince in justice seizeth but his own.
285285And that he will and shall, if Lucius live!
Traitors, avaunt! Where is the Emperor’s guard?
Enter Saturninus and his Guards.
Treason, my lord. Lavinia is surprised.
Surprised? By whom?
By him that justly may
290290Bear his betrothed from all the world away.
Brothers, help to convey her hence away,
And with my sword I’ll keep this door safe.
Follow, my lord, and I’ll soon bring her back.
My lord, you pass not here.
295295What, villain boy,
Barr’st me my way in Rome?
Help, Lucius, help!
Mutius dies.Enter Lucius.
My lord, you are unjust, and more than so!
In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son.
300300Nor thou nor he are any sons of mine.
My sons would never so dishonor me.
Traitor, restore Lavinia to the Emperor.
Dead if you will, but not to be his wife
That is another’s lawful promised love.
305305No, Titus, no, the Emperor needs her not,
Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock.
I’ll trust by leisure him that mocks me once,
Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons,
Confederates all thus to dishonor me.
310310Was none in Rome to make a stale
But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus,
Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine
That said’st I begged the empire at thy hands.
O monstrous! What reproachful words are these?
315315But go thy ways. Go give that changing piece
To him that flourished for her with his sword.
A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy,
One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons,
To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome.
320320These words are razors to my wounded heart.
And therefore, lovely Tamora, Queen of Goths,
That like the stately Phoebe ’mongst her nymphs
Dost overshine the gallant’st dames of Rome,
If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice,
325325Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride,
And will create thee Emperess of Rome.
Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my
choice?
And here I swear by all the Roman gods,
330330Sith priest and holy water are so near,
And tapers burn so bright, and everything
In readiness for Hymenaeus stand,
I will not resalute the streets of Rome
Or climb my palace till from forth this place
335335I lead espoused my bride along with me.
And here in sight of heaven to Rome I swear,
If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths,
She will a handmaid be to his desires,
A loving nurse, a mother to his youth.
340340Ascend, fair queen, to Pantheon.—Lords, accompany
Your noble emperor and his lovely bride,
Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine,
Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquerèd.
There shall we consummate our spousal rites.
345345I am not bid to wait upon this bride.
Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone,
Dishonored thus and challengèd of wrongs?
O Titus, see! O, see what thou hast done!
In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son.
350350No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine,
Nor thou, nor these confederates in the deed
That hath dishonored all our family.
Unworthy brother and unworthy sons!
But let us give him burial as becomes,
355355Give Mutius burial with our brethren.
Traitors, away! He rests not in this tomb.
This monument five hundred years hath stood,
Which I have sumptuously reedified.
Here none but soldiers and Rome’s servitors
360360Repose in fame, none basely slain in brawls.
Bury him where you can. He comes not here.
My lord, this is impiety in you.
My nephew Mutius’ deeds do plead for him.
He must be buried with his brethren.
365365And shall, or him we will accompany.
“And shall”? What villain was it spake that word?
He that would vouch it in any place but here.
What, would you bury him in my despite?
No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee
370370To pardon Mutius and to bury him.
Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest,
And with these boys mine honor thou hast wounded.
My foes I do repute you every one.
So trouble me no more, but get you gone.
375375He is not with himself; let us withdraw.
Not I, till Mutius’ bones be burièd.
Brother, for in that name doth nature plead—
Father, and in that name doth nature speak—
Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed.
380380Renownèd Titus, more than half my soul—
Dear father, soul and substance of us all—
Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter
His noble nephew here in virtue’s nest,
That died in honor and Lavinia’s cause.
385385Thou art a Roman; be not barbarous.
The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax,
That slew himself, and wise Laertes’ son
Did graciously plead for his funerals.
Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy,
390390Be barred his entrance here.
Rise, Marcus, rise.
They rise.
The dismall’st day is this that e’er I saw,
To be dishonored by my sons in Rome.
Well, bury him, and bury me the next.
395395There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends’,
Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb.
No man shed tears for noble Mutius.
He lives in fame, that died in virtue’s cause.
My lord, to step out of these dreary dumps,
400400How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths
Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome?
I know not, Marcus, but I know it is.
Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell.
Is she not then beholding to the man
405405That brought her for this high good turn so far?
Yes, and will nobly him remunerate.
So, Bassianus, you have played your prize.
God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride.
And you of yours, my lord. I say no more,
410410Nor wish no less, and so I take my leave.
Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power,
Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.
“Rape” call you it, my lord, to seize my own,
My true betrothèd love and now my wife?
415415But let the laws of Rome determine all.
Meanwhile am I possessed of that is mine.
’Tis good, sir, you are very short with us.
But if we live, we’ll be as sharp with you.
My lord, what I have done, as best I may,
420420Answer I must, and shall do with my life.
Only thus much I give your Grace to know:
By all the duties that I owe to Rome,
This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here,
Is in opinion and in honor wronged,
425425That in the rescue of Lavinia
With his own hand did slay his youngest son,
In zeal to you, and highly moved to wrath
To be controlled in that he frankly gave.
Receive him then to favor, Saturnine,
430430That hath expressed himself in all his deeds
A father and a friend to thee and Rome.
Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds.
’Tis thou, and those, that have dishonored me.
Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge
435435How I have loved and honored Saturnine.
My worthy lord, if ever Tamora
Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine,
Then hear me speak indifferently for all,
And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past.
440440What, madam, be dishonored openly,
And basely put it up without revenge?
Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend
I should be author to dishonor you.
But on mine honor dare I undertake
445445For good Lord Titus’ innocence in all,
Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs.
Then at my suit look graciously on him.
Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose,
Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart.
450450Aside to Saturninus. My lord, be ruled by me; be
won at last.
Dissemble all your griefs and discontents.
You are but newly planted in your throne.
Lest, then, the people, and patricians too,
455455Upon a just survey take Titus’ part
And so supplant you for ingratitude,
Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin.
Yield at entreats, and then let me alone.
I’ll find a day to massacre them all
460460And raze their faction and their family,
The cruel father and his traitorous sons,
To whom I sued for my dear son’s life,
And make them know what ’tis to let a queen
Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain.
465465Aloud. Come, come, sweet emperor.—Come,
Andronicus.—
Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart
That dies in tempest of thy angry frown.
Rise, Titus, rise. My empress hath prevailed.
470470I thank your Majesty and her, my lord.
These words, these looks, infuse new life in me.
Titus, I am incorporate in Rome,
A Roman now adopted happily,
And must advise the Emperor for his good.
475475This day all quarrels die, Andronicus.—
And let it be mine honor, good my lord,
That I have reconciled your friends and you.—
For you, Prince Bassianus, I have passed
My word and promise to the Emperor
480480That you will be more mild and tractable.—
And fear not, lords—and you, Lavinia.
By my advice, all humbled on your knees,
You shall ask pardon of his Majesty.
We do, and vow to heaven and to his Highness
485485That what we did was mildly as we might,
Tend’ring our sister’s honor and our own.
That on mine honor here do I protest.
Away, and talk not; trouble us no more.
Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be friends.
490490The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace.
I will not be denied. Sweetheart, look back.
Marcus, for thy sake, and thy brother’s here,
And at my lovely Tamora’s entreats,
I do remit these young men’s heinous faults.
495495Stand up.They rise.
Lavinia, though you left me like a churl,
I found a friend, and sure as death I swore
I would not part a bachelor from the priest.
Come, if the Emperor’s court can feast two brides,
500500You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends.—
This day shall be a love-day, Tamora.
Tomorrow, an it please your Majesty
To hunt the panther and the hart with me,
With horn and hound we’ll give your Grace bonjour.
505505Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too.
Now climbeth Tamora Olympus’ top,
Safe out of Fortune’s shot, and sits aloft,
Secure of thunder’s crack or lightning flash,
Advanced above pale Envy’s threat’ning reach.
5510As when the golden sun salutes the morn
And, having gilt the ocean with his beams,
Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach
And overlooks the highest-peering hills,
So Tamora.
10515Upon her wit doth earthly honor wait,
And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown.
Then, Aaron, arm thy heart and fit thy thoughts
To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress,
And mount her pitch whom thou in triumph long
15520Hast prisoner held, fettered in amorous chains
And faster bound to Aaron’s charming eyes
Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus.
Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts!
I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold
20525To wait upon this new-made emperess.
To wait, said I? To wanton with this queen,
This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph,
This siren that will charm Rome’s Saturnine
And see his shipwrack and his commonweal’s.
25530Holla! What storm is this?
Chiron, thy years wants wit, thy wits wants edge
And manners, to intrude where I am graced,
And may, for aught thou knowest, affected be.
Demetrius, thou dost overween in all,
30535And so in this, to bear me down with braves.
’Tis not the difference of a year or two
Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate.
I am as able and as fit as thou
To serve and to deserve my mistress’ grace,
35540And that my sword upon thee shall approve
And plead my passions for Lavinia’s love.
Clubs, clubs! These lovers will not keep the peace.
Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised,
Gave you a dancing rapier by your side,
40545Are you so desperate grown to threat your friends?
Go to. Have your lath glued within your sheath
Till you know better how to handle it.
Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have,
Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare.
45550Ay, boy, grow you so brave?
Why, how now, lords?
So near the Emperor’s palace dare you draw
And maintain such a quarrel openly?
Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge.
50555I would not for a million of gold
The cause were known to them it most concerns,
Nor would your noble mother for much more
Be so dishonored in the court of Rome.
For shame, put up.
55560Not I, till I have sheathed
My rapier in his bosom, and withal
Thrust those reproachful speeches down his throat
That he hath breathed in my dishonor here.
For that I am prepared and full resolved,
60565Foul-spoken coward, that thund’rest with thy tongue
And with thy weapon nothing dar’st perform.
Away, I say!
Now by the gods that warlike Goths adore,
This petty brabble will undo us all.
65570Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous
It is to jet upon a prince’s right?
What, is Lavinia then become so loose
Or Bassianus so degenerate
That for her love such quarrels may be broached
70575Without controlment, justice, or revenge?
Young lords, beware! And should the Empress know
This discord’s ground, the music would not please.
I care not, I, knew she and all the world.
I love Lavinia more than all the world.
75580Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice.
Lavinia is thine elder brother’s hope.
Why, are you mad? Or know you not in Rome
How furious and impatient they be,
And cannot brook competitors in love?
80585I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths
By this device.
Aaron, a thousand deaths
Would I propose to achieve her whom I love.
To achieve her how?
85590Why makes thou it so strange?
She is a woman, therefore may be wooed;
She is a woman, therefore may be won;
She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved.
What, man, more water glideth by the mill
90595Than wots the miller of, and easy it is
Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know.
Though Bassianus be the Emperor’s brother,
Better than he have worn Vulcan’s badge.
Ay, and as good as Saturninus may.
95600Then why should he despair that knows to court it
With words, fair looks, and liberality?
What, hast not thou full often struck a doe
And borne her cleanly by the keeper’s nose?
Why, then, it seems some certain snatch or so
100605Would serve your turns.
Ay, so the turn were served.
Aaron, thou hast hit it.
Would you had hit it too!
Then should not we be tired with this ado.
105610Why, hark you, hark you! And are you such fools
To square for this? Would it offend you then
That both should speed?
Faith, not me.
Nor me, so I were one.
110615For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar.
’Tis policy and stratagem must do
That you affect, and so must you resolve
That what you cannot as you would achieve,
You must perforce accomplish as you may.
115620Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste
Than this Lavinia, Bassianus’ love.
A speedier course than ling’ring languishment
Must we pursue, and I have found the path.
My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand;
120625There will the lovely Roman ladies troop.
The forest walks are wide and spacious,
And many unfrequented plots there are,
Fitted by kind for rape and villainy.
Single you thither then this dainty doe,
125630And strike her home by force, if not by words.
This way, or not at all, stand you in hope.
Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit
To villainy and vengeance consecrate,
Will we acquaint withal what we intend,
130635And she shall file our engines with advice
That will not suffer you to square yourselves,
But to your wishes’ height advance you both.
The Emperor’s court is like the house of Fame,
The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears;
135640The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull.
There speak and strike, brave boys, and take your
turns.
There serve your lust, shadowed from heaven’s eye,
And revel in Lavinia’s treasury.
140645Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice.
Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream
To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits,
Per Stygia, per manes vehor.
The hunt is up, the moon is bright and gray,
650The fields are fragrant, and the woods are green.
Uncouple here, and let us make a bay
And wake the Emperor and his lovely bride,
5And rouse the Prince, and ring a hunter’s peal,
That all the court may echo with the noise.
655Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours,
To attend the Emperor’s person carefully.
I have been troubled in my sleep this night,
10But dawning day new comfort hath inspired.
Many good morrows to your Majesty;—
660Madam, to you as many, and as good.—
I promisèd your Grace a hunter’s peal.
And you have rung it lustily, my lords—
15Somewhat too early for new-married ladies.
Lavinia, how say you?
665I say no.
I have been broad awake two hours and more.
Come on, then. Horse and chariots let us have,
20And to our sport. (To Tamora) Madam, now shall
you see
670Our Roman hunting.
I have dogs, my lord,
Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase
25And climb the highest promontory top.
And I have horse will follow where the game
675Makes way and runs like swallows o’er the plain.
Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound,
But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground.
He that had wit would think that I had none,
To bury so much gold under a tree
680And never after to inherit it.
Let him that thinks of me so abjectly
5Know that this gold must coin a stratagem
Which, cunningly effected, will beget
A very excellent piece of villainy.He hides the bag.
685And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest
That have their alms out of the Empress’ chest.
10My lovely Aaron, wherefore look’st thou sad,
When everything doth make a gleeful boast?
The birds chant melody on every bush,
690The snakes lies rollèd in the cheerful sun,
The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind
15And make a checkered shadow on the ground.
Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit,
And whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds,
695Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns,
As if a double hunt were heard at once,
20Let us sit down and mark their yellowing noise.
And after conflict such as was supposed
The wand’ring prince and Dido once enjoyed
700When with a happy storm they were surprised,
And curtained with a counsel-keeping cave,
25We may, each wreathèd in the other’s arms,
Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber,
Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds
705Be unto us as is a nurse’s song
Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep.
30Madam, though Venus govern your desires,
Saturn is dominator over mine.
What signifies my deadly standing eye,
710My silence, and my cloudy melancholy,
My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls
35Even as an adder when she doth unroll
To do some fatal execution?
No, madam, these are no venereal signs.
715Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand,
Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.
40Hark, Tamora, the empress of my soul,
Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee,
This is the day of doom for Bassianus.
720His Philomel must lose her tongue today,
Thy sons make pillage of her chastity
45And wash their hands in Bassianus’ blood.
He takes out a paper.
Seest thou this letter? Take it up, I pray thee,
And give the King this fatal-plotted scroll.
He hands her the paper.
725Now, question me no more. We are espied.
Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty,
50Which dreads not yet their lives’ destruction.
Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life!
No more, great empress. Bassianus comes.
730Be cross with him, and I’ll go fetch thy sons
To back thy quarrels, whatsoe’er they be.
55Who have we here? Rome’s royal empress,
Unfurnished of her well-beseeming troop?
Or is it Dian, habited like her,
735Who hath abandonèd her holy groves
To see the general hunting in this forest?
60Saucy controller of my private steps,
Had I the power that some say Dian had,
Thy temples should be planted presently
740With horns, as was Acteon’s, and the hounds
Should drive upon thy new-transformèd limbs,
65Unmannerly intruder as thou art.
Under your patience, gentle empress,
’Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning,
745And to be doubted that your Moor and you
Are singled forth to try experiments.
70Jove shield your husband from his hounds today!
’Tis pity they should take him for a stag.
Believe me, queen, your swarthy Cimmerian
750Doth make your honor of his body’s hue,
Spotted, detested, and abominable.
75Why are you sequestered from all your train,
Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed,
And wandered hither to an obscure plot,
755Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor,
If foul desire had not conducted you?
80And being intercepted in your sport,
Great reason that my noble lord be rated
For sauciness.—I pray you, let us hence,
760And let her joy her raven-colored love.
This valley fits the purpose passing well.
85The King my brother shall have notice of this.
Ay, for these slips have made him noted long.
Good king to be so mightily abused!
765Why, I have patience to endure all this.
How now, dear sovereign and our gracious mother,
90Why doth your Highness look so pale and wan?
Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?
These two have ticed me hither to this place,
770A barren, detested vale you see it is;
The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean,
95Overcome with moss and baleful mistletoe.
Here never shines the sun, here nothing breeds,
Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven.
775And when they showed me this abhorrèd pit,
They told me, here at dead time of the night
100A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes,
Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins,
Would make such fearful and confusèd cries
780As any mortal body hearing it
Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly.
105No sooner had they told this hellish tale
But straight they told me they would bind me here
Unto the body of a dismal yew
785And leave me to this miserable death.
And then they called me foul adulteress,
110Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms
That ever ear did hear to such effect.
And had you not by wondrous fortune come,
790This vengeance on me had they executed.
Revenge it as you love your mother’s life,
115Or be you not henceforth called my children.
This is a witness that I am thy son.
And this for me, struck home to show my strength.
795Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous Tamora,
For no name fits thy nature but thy own!
120Give me the poniard! You shall know, my boys,
Your mother’s hand shall right your mother’s wrong.
Stay, madam, here is more belongs to her.
800First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw.
This minion stood upon her chastity,
125Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty,
And with that painted hope braves your mightiness;
And shall she carry this unto her grave?
805And if she do, I would I were an eunuch!
Drag hence her husband to some secret hole,
130And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust.
But when you have the honey you desire,
Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting.
810I warrant you, madam, we will make that sure.—
Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy
135That nice-preservèd honesty of yours.
O Tamora, thou bearest a woman’s face—
I will not hear her speak. Away with her.
815Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word.
Listen, fair madam. Let it be your glory
140To see her tears, but be your heart to them
As unrelenting flint to drops of rain.
When did the tiger’s young ones teach the dam?
820O, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee.
The milk thou suck’st from her did turn to marble.
145Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny.
Yet every mother breeds not sons alike.
To Chiron. Do thou entreat her show a woman’s pity.
825What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard?
’Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark.
150Yet have I heard—O, could I find it now!—
The lion, moved with pity, did endure
To have his princely paws pared all away.
830Some say that ravens foster forlorn children,
The whilst their own birds famish in their nests.
155O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no,
Nothing so kind, but something pitiful.
I know not what it means.—Away with her.
835O, let me teach thee! For my father’s sake,
That gave thee life when well he might have slain thee,
160Be not obdurate; open thy deaf ears.
Hadst thou in person ne’er offended me,
Even for his sake am I pitiless.—
840Remember, boys, I poured forth tears in vain
To save your brother from the sacrifice,
165But fierce Andronicus would not relent.
Therefore away with her, and use her as you will;
The worse to her, the better loved of me.
845O Tamora, be called a gentle queen,
And with thine own hands kill me in this place!
170For ’tis not life that I have begged so long;
Poor I was slain when Bassianus died.
What begg’st thou, then? Fond woman, let me go!
850’Tis present death I beg, and one thing more
That womanhood denies my tongue to tell.
175O, keep me from their worse-than-killing lust,
And tumble me into some loathsome pit
Where never man’s eye may behold my body.
855Do this, and be a charitable murderer.
So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee.
180No, let them satisfy their lust on thee.
Away, for thou hast stayed us here too long!
No grace, no womanhood? Ah, beastly creature,
860The blot and enemy to our general name,
Confusion fall—
185Nay, then, I’ll stop your mouth.—Bring thou her
husband.
This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him.
865Farewell, my sons. See that you make her sure.
Ne’er let my heart know merry cheer indeed
190Till all the Andronici be made away.
Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor,
And let my spleenful sons this trull deflower.
870Come on, my lords, the better foot before.
Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit
195Where I espied the panther fast asleep.
My sight is very dull, whate’er it bodes.
And mine, I promise you. Were it not for shame,
875Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile.
What, art thou fallen? What subtle hole is this,
200Whose mouth is covered with rude-growing briers
Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood
As fresh as morning dew distilled on flowers?
880A very fatal place it seems to me.
Speak, brother! Hast thou hurt thee with the fall?
205O, brother, with the dismal’st object hurt
That ever eye with sight made heart lament!
Now will I fetch the King to find them here,
885That he thereby may have a likely guess
How these were they that made away his brother.
210Why dost not comfort me and help me out
From this unhallowed and bloodstainèd hole?
I am surprisèd with an uncouth fear.
890A chilling sweat o’erruns my trembling joints.
My heart suspects more than mine eye can see.
215To prove thou hast a true-divining heart,
Aaron and thou look down into this den
And see a fearful sight of blood and death.
895Aaron is gone, and my compassionate heart
Will not permit mine eyes once to behold
220The thing whereat it trembles by surmise.
O, tell me who it is, for ne’er till now
Was I a child to fear I know not what.
900Lord Bassianus lies berayed in blood,
All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb,
225In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
If it be dark, how dost thou know ’tis he?
Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
905A precious ring that lightens all this hole,
Which like a taper in some monument
230Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheeks
And shows the ragged entrails of this pit.
So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus
910When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood.
O, brother, help me with thy fainting hand—
235If fear hath made thee faint as me it hath—
Out of this fell devouring receptacle,
As hateful as Cocytus’ misty mouth.
915Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out,
Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good,
240I may be plucked into the swallowing womb
Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus’ grave.
He pulls Martius’ hand.
I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink.
920Nor I no strength to climb without thy help.
Thy hand once more. I will not loose again
245Till thou art here aloft or I below.
Thou canst not come to me. I come to thee.
Along with me! I’ll see what hole is here
925And what he is that now is leapt into it.—
Say, who art thou that lately didst descend
250Into this gaping hollow of the earth?
The unhappy sons of old Andronicus,
Brought hither in a most unlucky hour
930To find thy brother Bassianus dead.
My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest.
255He and his lady both are at the lodge
Upon the north side of this pleasant chase.
’Tis not an hour since I left them there.
935We know not where you left them all alive,
But, out alas, here have we found him dead.
260Where is my lord the King?
Here, Tamora, though grieved with killing grief.
Where is thy brother Bassianus?
940Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound.
Poor Bassianus here lies murderèd.
265Then all too late I bring this fatal writ,
The complot of this timeless tragedy,
And wonder greatly that man’s face can fold
945In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny.
An if we miss to meet him handsomely,
270Sweet huntsman—Bassianus ’tis we mean—
Do thou so much as dig the grave for him;
Thou know’st our meaning. Look for thy reward
950Among the nettles at the elder tree
Which overshades the mouth of that same pit
275Where we decreed to bury Bassianus.
Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.
O Tamora, was ever heard the like?
955This is the pit, and this the elder tree.—
Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out
280That should have murdered Bassianus here.
My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold.
Two of thy whelps, fell curs of bloody kind,
960Have here bereft my brother of his life.—
Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison.
285There let them bide until we have devised
Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them.
What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing!
965How easily murder is discoverèd.
High Emperor, upon my feeble knee
290I beg this boon with tears not lightly shed,
That this fell fault of my accursèd sons—
Accursèd if the faults be proved in them—
970If it be proved! You see it is apparent.
Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you?
295Andronicus himself did take it up.
I did, my lord, yet let me be their bail,
For by my father’s reverend tomb I vow
975They shall be ready at your Highness’ will
To answer their suspicion with their lives.
300Thou shalt not bail them. See thou follow me.—
Some bring the murdered body, some the murderers.
Let them not speak a word. The guilt is plain.
980For, by my soul, were there worse end than death,
That end upon them should be executed.
305Andronicus, I will entreat the King.
Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough.
Come, Lucius, come. Stay not to talk with them.
985So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak,
Who ’twas that cut thy tongue and ravished thee.
Write down thy mind; bewray thy meaning so,
An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe.
5See how with signs and tokens she can scrowl.
990Go home. Call for sweet water; wash thy hands.
She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash;
And so let’s leave her to her silent walks.
An ’twere my cause, I should go hang myself.
10If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord.
995Who is this? My niece, that flies away so fast?—
Cousin, a word. Where is your husband?
If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me.
If I do wake, some planet strike me down
15That I may slumber an eternal sleep.
1000Speak, gentle niece. What stern ungentle hands
Hath lopped and hewed and made thy body bare
Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments
Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in,
20And might not gain so great a happiness
1005As half thy love? Why dost not speak to me?
Alas, a crimson river of warm blood,
Like to a bubbling fountain stirred with wind,
Doth rise and fall between thy rosèd lips,
25Coming and going with thy honey breath.
1010But sure some Tereus hath deflowered thee,
And lest thou shouldst detect him cut thy tongue.
Ah, now thou turn’st away thy face for shame,
And notwithstanding all this loss of blood,
30As from a conduit with three issuing spouts,
1015Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan’s face,
Blushing to be encountered with a cloud.
Shall I speak for thee, shall I say ’tis so?
O, that I knew thy heart, and knew the beast,
35That I might rail at him to ease my mind.
1020Sorrow concealèd, like an oven stopped,
Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.
Fair Philomela, why she but lost her tongue,
And in a tedious sampler sewed her mind;
40But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee.
1025A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met,
And he hath cut those pretty fingers off
That could have better sewed than Philomel.
O, had the monster seen those lily hands
45Tremble like aspen leaves upon a lute
1030And make the silken strings delight to kiss them,
He would not then have touched them for his life.
Or had he heard the heavenly harmony
Which that sweet tongue hath made,
50He would have dropped his knife and fell asleep,
1035As Cerberus at the Thracian poet’s feet.
Come, let us go and make thy father blind,
For such a sight will blind a father’s eye.
One hour’s storm will drown the fragrant meads;
55What will whole months of tears thy father’s eyes?
1040Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee.
O, could our mourning ease thy misery!
Hear me, grave fathers; noble tribunes, stay.
For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent
In dangerous wars whilst you securely slept;
1045For all my blood in Rome’s great quarrel shed,
5For all the frosty nights that I have watched,
And for these bitter tears which now you see,
Filling the agèd wrinkles in my cheeks,
Be pitiful to my condemnèd sons,
1050Whose souls is not corrupted as ’tis thought.
10For two-and-twenty sons I never wept
Because they died in honor’s lofty bed.
Andronicus lieth down, and the Judges pass by him.
They exit with the prisoners as Titus continues speaking.
For these, tribunes, in the dust I write
My heart’s deep languor and my soul’s sad tears.
1055Let my tears stanch the earth’s dry appetite.
15My sons’ sweet blood will make it shame and blush.
O Earth, I will befriend thee more with rain
That shall distil from these two ancient ruins
Than youthful April shall with all his showers.
1060In summer’s drought I’ll drop upon thee still;
20In winter with warm tears I’ll melt the snow
And keep eternal springtime on thy face,
So thou refuse to drink my dear sons’ blood.
Enter Lucius with his weapon drawn.
O reverend tribunes, O gentle agèd men,
1065Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death,
25And let me say, that never wept before,
My tears are now prevailing orators.
O noble father, you lament in vain.
The Tribunes hear you not; no man is by,
1070And you recount your sorrows to a stone.
30Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead.—
Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you—
My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak.
Why, ’tis no matter, man. If they did hear,
1075They would not mark me; if they did mark,
35They would not pity me. Yet plead I must,
And bootless unto them.
Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones,
Who, though they cannot answer my distress,
1080Yet in some sort they are better than the Tribunes,
40For that they will not intercept my tale.
When I do weep, they humbly at my feet
Receive my tears and seem to weep with me,
And were they but attirèd in grave weeds,
1085Rome could afford no tribunes like to these.
45A stone is soft as wax, tribunes more hard than
stones;
A stone is silent and offendeth not,
And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death.
1090But wherefore stand’st thou with thy weapon drawn?
50To rescue my two brothers from their death,
For which attempt the Judges have pronounced
My everlasting doom of banishment.
O happy man, they have befriended thee!
1095Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive
55That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers?
Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey
But me and mine. How happy art thou then
From these devourers to be banishèd.
1100But who comes with our brother Marcus here?
60Titus, prepare thy agèd eyes to weep,
Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break.
I bring consuming sorrow to thine age.
Will it consume me? Let me see it, then.
1105This was thy daughter.
65Why, Marcus, so she is.
Ay me, this object kills me!
Faint-hearted boy, arise and look upon her.—
Speak, Lavinia. What accursèd hand
1110Hath made thee handless in thy father’s sight?
70What fool hath added water to the sea
Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy?
My grief was at the height before thou cam’st,
And now like Nilus it disdaineth bounds.—
1115Give me a sword. I’ll chop off my hands too,
75For they have fought for Rome and all in vain;
And they have nursed this woe in feeding life;
In bootless prayer have they been held up,
And they have served me to effectless use.
1120Now all the service I require of them
80Is that the one will help to cut the other.—
’Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands,
For hands to do Rome service is but vain.
Speak, gentle sister. Who hath martyred thee?
1125O, that delightful engine of her thoughts,
85That blabbed them with such pleasing eloquence,
Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage
Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung
Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear.
1130O, say thou for her who hath done this deed!
90O, thus I found her straying in the park,
Seeking to hide herself as doth the deer
That hath received some unrecuring wound.
It was my dear, and he that wounded her
1135Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead.
95For now I stand as one upon a rock,
Environed with a wilderness of sea,
Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave,
Expecting ever when some envious surge
1140Will in his brinish bowels swallow him.
100This way to death my wretched sons are gone;
Here stands my other son a banished man,
And here my brother, weeping at my woes.
But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn
1145Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul.
105Had I but seen thy picture in this plight
It would have madded me. What shall I do,
Now I behold thy lively body so?
Thou hast no hands to wipe away thy tears,
1150Nor tongue to tell me who hath martyred thee.
110Thy husband he is dead, and for his death
Thy brothers are condemned, and dead by this.—
Look, Marcus!—Ah, son Lucius, look on her!
When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears
1155Stood on her cheeks as doth the honeydew
115Upon a gathered lily almost withered.
Perchance she weeps because they killed her husband,
Perchance because she knows them innocent.
If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful,
1160Because the law hath ta’en revenge on them.—
120No, no, they would not do so foul a deed.
Witness the sorrow that their sister makes.—
Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips,
Or make some sign how I may do thee ease.
1165Shall thy good uncle and thy brother Lucius
125And thou and I sit round about some fountain,
Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks,
How they are stained like meadows yet not dry
With miry slime left on them by a flood?
1170And in the fountain shall we gaze so long
130Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness
And made a brine pit with our bitter tears?
Or shall we cut away our hands like thine?
Or shall we bite our tongues and in dumb shows
1175Pass the remainder of our hateful days?
135What shall we do? Let us that have our tongues
Plot some device of further misery
To make us wondered at in time to come.
Sweet father, cease your tears, for at your grief
1180See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.
140Patience, dear niece.—Good Titus, dry thine eyes.
Ah, Marcus, Marcus! Brother, well I wot
Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine,
For thou, poor man, hast drowned it with thine own.
1185Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks.
145Mark, Marcus, mark. I understand her signs.
Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say
That to her brother which I said to thee.
His napkin, with his true tears all bewet,
1190Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks.
150O, what a sympathy of woe is this,
As far from help as limbo is from bliss.
Titus Andronicus, my lord the Emperor
Sends thee this word, that if thou love thy sons,
1195Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus,
155Or any one of you, chop off your hand
And send it to the King; he for the same
Will send thee hither both thy sons alive,
And that shall be the ransom for their fault.
1200O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron!
160Did ever raven sing so like a lark,
That gives sweet tidings of the sun’s uprise?
With all my heart I’ll send the Emperor my hand.
Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?
1205Stay, father, for that noble hand of thine,
165That hath thrown down so many enemies,
Shall not be sent. My hand will serve the turn.
My youth can better spare my blood than you,
And therefore mine shall save my brothers’ lives.
1210Which of your hands hath not defended Rome
170And reared aloft the bloody battleax,
Writing destruction on the enemy’s castle?
O, none of both but are of high desert.
My hand hath been but idle; let it serve
1215To ransom my two nephews from their death.
175Then have I kept it to a worthy end.
Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along,
For fear they die before their pardon come.
My hand shall go.
1220By heaven, it shall not go!
180Sirs, strive no more. Such withered herbs as these
Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son,
Let me redeem my brothers both from death.
1225And for our father’s sake and mother’s care,
185Now let me show a brother’s love to thee.
Agree between you. I will spare my hand.
Then I’ll go fetch an ax.
But I will use the ax.
Lucius and Marcus exit.
1230Come hither, Aaron. I’ll deceive them both.
190Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.
If that be called deceit, I will be honest
And never whilst I live deceive men so.
But I’ll deceive you in another sort,
1235And that you’ll say ere half an hour pass.
195Now stay your strife. What shall be is dispatched.—
Good Aaron, give his Majesty my hand.
Tell him it was a hand that warded him
From thousand dangers. Bid him bury it.
1240More hath it merited; that let it have.
200As for my sons, say I account of them
As jewels purchased at an easy price,
And yet dear, too, because I bought mine own.
I go, Andronicus, and for thy hand
1245Look by and by to have thy sons with thee.
205Aside. Their heads, I mean. O, how this villainy
Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it!
Let fools do good and fair men call for grace;
Aaron will have his soul black like his face.
1250O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,
210And bow this feeble ruin to the earth.He kneels.
If any power pities wretched tears,
To that I call. (Lavinia kneels.) What, wouldst thou
kneel with me?
1255Do, then, dear heart, for heaven shall hear our
215prayers,
Or with our sighs we’ll breathe the welkin dim
And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds
When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.
1260O brother, speak with possibility,
220And do not break into these deep extremes.
Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?
Then be my passions bottomless with them.
But yet let reason govern thy lament.
1265If there were reason for these miseries,
225Then into limits could I bind my woes.
When heaven doth weep, doth not the Earth o’erflow?
If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,
Threat’ning the welkin with his big-swoll’n face?
1270And wilt thou have a reason for this coil?
230I am the sea. Hark how her sighs doth flow!
She is the weeping welkin, I the Earth.
Then must my sea be movèd with her sighs;
Then must my Earth with her continual tears
1275Become a deluge, overflowed and drowned,
235Forwhy my bowels cannot hide her woes
But like a drunkard must I vomit them.
Then give me leave, for losers will have leave
To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
1280Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid
240For that good hand thou sent’st the Emperor.
Here are the heads of thy two noble sons,
And here’s thy hand in scorn to thee sent back.
Thy grief their sports, thy resolution mocked,
1285That woe is me to think upon thy woes
245More than remembrance of my father’s death.
Now let hot Etna cool in Sicily,
And be my heart an everburning hell!
These miseries are more than may be borne.
1290To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal,
250But sorrow flouted at is double death.
Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound
And yet detested life not shrink thereat!
That ever death should let life bear his name,
1295Where life hath no more interest but to breathe.
255Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless
As frozen water to a starvèd snake.
When will this fearful slumber have an end?
Now farewell, flatt’ry; die, Andronicus.
1300Thou dost not slumber. See thy two sons’ heads,
260Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here,
Thy other banished son with this dear sight
Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I,
Even like a stony image cold and numb.
1305Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs.
265Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand,
Gnawing with thy teeth, and be this dismal sight
The closing up of our most wretched eyes.
Now is a time to storm. Why art thou still?
1310Ha, ha, ha!
270Why dost thou laugh? It fits not with this hour.
Why, I have not another tear to shed.
Besides, this sorrow is an enemy
And would usurp upon my wat’ry eyes
1315And make them blind with tributary tears.
275Then which way shall I find Revenge’s cave?
For these two heads do seem to speak to me
And threat me I shall never come to bliss
Till all these mischiefs be returned again
1320Even in their throats that hath committed them.
280Come, let me see what task I have to do.
You heavy people, circle me about
That I may turn me to each one of you
And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
1325The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head,
285And in this hand the other will I bear.—
And, Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these arms.
Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy
teeth.—
1330As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight.
290Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay.
Hie to the Goths and raise an army there.
And if you love me, as I think you do,
Let’s kiss and part, for we have much to do.
1335Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father,
295The woefull’st man that ever lived in Rome.
Farewell, proud Rome, till Lucius come again.
He loves his pledges dearer than his life.
Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister.
1340O, would thou wert as thou tofore hast been!
300But now nor Lucius nor Lavinia lives
But in oblivion and hateful griefs.
If Lucius live he will requite your wrongs
And make proud Saturnine and his empress
1345Beg at the gates like Tarquin and his queen.
305Now will I to the Goths and raise a power
To be revenged on Rome and Saturnine.
So, so. Now sit, and look you eat no more
Than will preserve just so much strength in us
1350As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.
Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot.
5Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands
And cannot passionate our tenfold grief
With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine
1355Is left to tyrannize upon my breast,
Who, when my heart, all mad with misery,
10Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
Then thus I thump it down.—
Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs,
1360When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beating,
Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still.
15Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans;
Or get some little knife between thy teeth
And just against thy heart make thou a hole,
1365That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall
May run into that sink and, soaking in,
20Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.
Fie, brother, fie! Teach her not thus to lay
Such violent hands upon her tender life.
1370How now! Has sorrow made thee dote already?
Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I.
25What violent hands can she lay on her life?
Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands,
To bid Aeneas tell the tale twice o’er
1375How Troy was burnt and he made miserable?
O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands,
30Lest we remember still that we have none.—
Fie, fie, how franticly I square my talk,
As if we should forget we had no hands
1380If Marcus did not name the word of hands!
Come, let’s fall to, and, gentle girl, eat this.
35Here is no drink!—Hark, Marcus, what she says.
I can interpret all her martyred signs.
She says she drinks no other drink but tears
1385Brewed with her sorrow, mashed upon her cheeks.—
Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought.
40In thy dumb action will I be as perfect
As begging hermits in their holy prayers.
Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to heaven,
1390Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign,
But I of these will wrest an alphabet
45And by still practice learn to know thy meaning.
Good grandsire, leave these bitter deep laments.
Make my aunt merry with some pleasing tale.
1395Alas, the tender boy, in passion moved,
Doth weep to see his grandsire’s heaviness.
50Peace, tender sapling. Thou art made of tears,
And tears will quickly melt thy life away.
Marcus strikes the dish with a knife.
What dost thou strike at, Marcus, with thy knife?
1400At that that I have killed, my lord, a fly.
Out on thee, murderer! Thou kill’st my heart.
55Mine eyes are cloyed with view of tyranny;
A deed of death done on the innocent
Becomes not Titus’ brother. Get thee gone.
1405I see thou art not for my company.
Alas, my lord, I have but killed a fly.
60“But”? How if that fly had a father and mother?
How would he hang his slender gilded wings
And buzz lamenting doings in the air!
1410Poor harmless fly,
That, with his pretty buzzing melody,
65Came here to make us merry! And thou hast killed
him.
Pardon me, sir. It was a black, ill-favored fly,
1415Like to the Empress’ Moor. Therefore I killed him.
O, O, O!
70Then pardon me for reprehending thee,
For thou hast done a charitable deed.
Give me thy knife. I will insult on him,
1420Flattering myself as if it were the Moor
Come hither purposely to poison me.
75There’s for thyself, and that’s for Tamora.
Ah, sirrah!
Yet I think we are not brought so low
1425But that between us we can kill a fly
That comes in likeness of a coal-black Moor.
80Alas, poor man, grief has so wrought on him
He takes false shadows for true substances.
Come, take away.—Lavinia, go with me.
1430I’ll to thy closet and go read with thee
Sad stories chancèd in the times of old.—
85Come, boy, and go with me. Thy sight is young,
And thou shalt read when mine begin to dazzle.
Help, grandsire, help! My aunt Lavinia
1435Follows me everywhere, I know not why.—
Good uncle Marcus, see how swift she comes!—
Alas, sweet aunt, I know not what you mean.
5Stand by me, Lucius. Do not fear thine aunt.
She loves thee, boy, too well to do thee harm.
1440Ay, when my father was in Rome she did.
What means my niece Lavinia by these signs?
Fear her not, Lucius. Somewhat doth she mean.
10See, Lucius, see, how much she makes of thee.
Somewhither would she have thee go with her.
1445Ah, boy, Cornelia never with more care
Read to her sons than she hath read to thee
Sweet poetry and Tully’s .
15Canst thou not guess wherefore she plies thee thus?
My lord, I know not, I, nor can I guess,
1450Unless some fit or frenzy do possess her;
For I have heard my grandsire say full oft,
Extremity of griefs would make men mad,
20And I have read that Hecuba of Troy
Ran mad for sorrow. That made me to fear,
1455Although, my lord, I know my noble aunt
Loves me as dear as e’er my mother did,
And would not but in fury fright my youth,
25Which made me down to throw my books and fly,
Causeless, perhaps.—But pardon me, sweet aunt.
1460And, madam, if my uncle Marcus go,
I will most willingly attend your Ladyship.
Lucius, I will.
30How now, Lavinia?—Marcus, what means this?
Some book there is that she desires to see.—
1465Which is it, girl, of these?—Open them, boy.—
To Lavinia. But thou art deeper read and better
skilled.
35Come and take choice of all my library,
And so beguile thy sorrow till the heavens
1470Reveal the damned contriver of this deed.—
Why lifts she up her arms in sequence thus?
I think she means that there were more than one
40Confederate in the fact. Ay, more there was,
Or else to heaven she heaves them for revenge.
1475Lucius, what book is that she tosseth so?
Grandsire, ’tis Ovid’s .
My mother gave it me.
45For love of her that’s gone,
Perhaps, she culled it from among the rest.
1480Soft! So busily she turns the leaves.
Help her! What would she find?—Lavinia, shall I read?
This is the tragic tale of Philomel,
50And treats of Tereus’ treason and his rape.
And rape, I fear, was root of thy annoy.
1485See, brother, see! Note how she quotes the leaves.
Lavinia, wert thou thus surprised, sweet girl,
Ravished and wronged as Philomela was,
55Forced in the ruthless, vast, and gloomy woods?
See, see! Ay, such a place there is where we did hunt—
1490O, had we never, never hunted there!—
Patterned by that the poet here describes,
By nature made for murders and for rapes.
60O, why should nature build so foul a den,
Unless the gods delight in tragedies?
1495Give signs, sweet girl, for here are none but friends,
What Roman lord it was durst do the deed.
Or slunk not Saturnine, as Tarquin erst,
65That left the camp to sin in Lucrece’ bed?
Sit down, sweet niece.—Brother, sit down by me.
They sit.
1500Apollo, Pallas, Jove, or Mercury
Inspire me, that I may this treason find.—
My lord, look here.—Look here, Lavinia.
He writes his name with his staff and guides it
with feet and mouth.
70This sandy plot is plain; guide, if thou canst,
This after me. I have writ my name
1505Without the help of any hand at all.
Cursed be that heart that forced us to this shift!
Write thou, good niece, and here display at last
75What God will have discovered for revenge.
Heaven guide thy pen to print thy sorrows plain,
1510That we may know the traitors and the truth.
She takes the staff in her mouth, and guides it
with her stumps and writes.
O, do you read, my lord, what she hath writ?
“Stuprum. Chiron, Demetrius.”
80What, what! The lustful sons of Tamora
Performers of this heinous, bloody deed?
1515Magni Dominator poli,
Tam lentus audis scelera, tam lentus vides?
O, calm thee, gentle lord, although I know
85There is enough written upon this earth
To stir a mutiny in the mildest thoughts
1520And arm the minds of infants to exclaims.
My lord, kneel down with me.—Lavinia, kneel.—
And kneel, sweet boy, the Roman Hector’s hope,
They all kneel.
90And swear with me—as, with the woeful fere
And father of that chaste dishonored dame,
1525Lord Junius Brutus swore for Lucrece’ rape—
That we will prosecute by good advice
Mortal revenge upon these traitorous Goths,
95And see their blood or die with this reproach.
’Tis sure enough, an you knew how.
1530But if you hunt these bearwhelps, then beware;
The dam will wake an if she wind you once.
She’s with the lion deeply still in league,
100And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back;
And when he sleeps will she do what she list.
1535You are a young huntsman, Marcus; let alone.
And come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
And with a gad of steel will write these words,
105And lay it by. The angry northern wind
Will blow these sands like Sibyl’s leaves abroad,
1540And where’s our lesson then?—Boy, what say you?
I say, my lord, that if I were a man,
Their mother’s bedchamber should not be safe
110For these base bondmen to the yoke of Rome.
Ay, that’s my boy! Thy father hath full oft
1545For his ungrateful country done the like.
And, uncle, so will I, an if I live.
Come, go with me into mine armory.
115Lucius, I’ll fit thee, and withal my boy
Shall carry from me to the Empress’ sons
1550Presents that I intend to send them both.
Come, come. Thou ’lt do my message, wilt thou not?
Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grandsire.
120No, boy, not so. I’ll teach thee another course.—
Lavinia, come.—Marcus, look to my house.
1555Lucius and I’ll go brave it at the court;
Ay, marry, will we, sir, and we’ll be waited on.
O heavens, can you hear a good man groan
125And not relent, or not compassion him?
Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy,
1560That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart
Than foemen’s marks upon his battered shield,
But yet so just that he will not revenge.
130Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus!
Demetrius, here’s the son of Lucius.
1565He hath some message to deliver us.
Ay, some mad message from his mad grandfather.
My lords, with all the humbleness I may,
5I greet your Honors from Andronicus—
Aside. And pray the Roman gods confound you both.
1570Gramercy, lovely Lucius. What’s the news?
That you are both deciphered, that’s the news,
For villains marked with rape.—May it please you,
10My grandsire, well advised, hath sent by me
The goodliest weapons of his armory
1575To gratify your honorable youth,
The hope of Rome; for so he bid me say,
And so I do, and with his gifts present
15Your Lordships, that, whenever you have need,
You may be armèd and appointed well,
1580And so I leave you both—(aside) like bloody villains.
What’s here? A scroll, and written round about.
Let’s see:
He reads: 20“Integer vitae, scelerisque purus,
Non eget Mauri iaculis, nec arcu.”
1585O, ’tis a verse in Horace; I know it well.
I read it in the grammar long ago.
Ay, just; a verse in Horace; right, you have it.
25Aside. Now, what a thing it is to be an ass!
Here’s no sound jest. The old man hath found their
1590guilt
And sends them weapons wrapped about with lines
That wound, beyond their feeling, to the quick.
30But were our witty empress well afoot,
She would applaud Andronicus’ conceit.
1595But let her rest in her unrest awhile.—
And now, young lords, was ’t not a happy star
Led us to Rome, strangers, and, more than so,
35Captives, to be advancèd to this height?
It did me good before the palace gate
1600To brave the tribune in his brother’s hearing.
But me more good to see so great a lord
Basely insinuate and send us gifts.
40Had he not reason, Lord Demetrius?
Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
1605I would we had a thousand Roman dames
At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.
A charitable wish, and full of love!
45Here lacks but your mother for to say amen.
And that would she, for twenty thousand more.
1610Come, let us go and pray to all the gods
For our belovèd mother in her pains.
Pray to the devils; the gods have given us over.
50Why do the Emperor’s trumpets flourish thus?
Belike for joy the Emperor hath a son.
1615Soft, who comes here?
Enter Nurse, with a blackamoor child in her arms.
Good morrow, lords.
O, tell me, did you see Aaron the Moor?
55Well, more or less, or ne’er a whit at all,
Here Aaron is. And what with Aaron now?
1620O, gentle Aaron, we are all undone!
Now help, or woe betide thee evermore.
Why, what a caterwauling dost thou keep!
60What dost thou wrap and fumble in thy arms?
O, that which I would hide from heaven’s eye,
1625Our empress’ shame and stately Rome’s disgrace.
She is delivered, lords, she is delivered.
To whom?
65I mean, she is brought abed.
Well, God give her good rest. What hath he sent her?
1630A devil.
Why, then she is the devil’s dam. A joyful issue!
A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful issue!
70Here is the babe, as loathsome as a toad
Amongst the fair-faced breeders of our clime.
1635The Empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal,
And bids thee christen it with thy dagger’s point.
Zounds, you whore, is black so base a hue?
75To the baby. Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous
blossom, sure.
1640Villain, what hast thou done?
That which thou canst not undo.
Thou hast undone our mother.
80Villain, I have done thy mother.
And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone her.
1645Woe to her chance, and damned her loathèd choice!
Accursed the offspring of so foul a fiend!
It shall not live.
85It shall not die.
Aaron, it must. The mother wills it so.
1650What, must it, nurse? Then let no man but I
Do execution on my flesh and blood.
I’ll broach the tadpole on my rapier’s point.
90Nurse, give it me. My sword shall soon dispatch it.
Sooner this sword shall plow thy bowels up!
1655Stay, murderous villains, will you kill your brother?
Now, by the burning tapers of the sky
That shone so brightly when this boy was got,
95He dies upon my scimitar’s sharp point
That touches this my firstborn son and heir.
1660I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus
With all his threat’ning band of Typhon’s brood,
Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war
100Shall seize this prey out of his father’s hands.
What, what, you sanguine, shallow-hearted boys,
1665You white-limed walls, you alehouse painted signs!
Coal-black is better than another hue
In that it scorns to bear another hue;
105For all the water in the ocean
Can never turn the swan’s black legs to white,
1670Although she lave them hourly in the flood.
Tell the Empress from me, I am of age
To keep mine own, excuse it how she can.
110Wilt thou betray thy noble mistress thus?
My mistress is my mistress, this myself,
1675The vigor and the picture of my youth.
This before all the world do I prefer;
This maugre all the world will I keep safe,
115Or some of you shall smoke for it in Rome.
By this our mother is forever shamed.
1680Rome will despise her for this foul escape.
The Emperor in his rage will doom her death.
I blush to think upon this ignomy.
120Why, there’s the privilege your beauty bears.
Fie, treacherous hue, that will betray with blushing
1685The close enacts and counsels of thy heart.
Here’s a young lad framed of another leer.
Look how the black slave smiles upon the father,
125As who should say “Old lad, I am thine own.”
He is your brother, lords, sensibly fed
1690Of that self blood that first gave life to you,
And from that womb where you imprisoned were
He is enfranchisèd and come to light.
130Nay, he is your brother by the surer side,
Although my seal be stampèd in his face.
1695Aaron, what shall I say unto the Empress?
Advise thee, Aaron, what is to be done,
And we will all subscribe to thy advice.
135Save thou the child, so we may all be safe.
Then sit we down, and let us all consult.
1700My son and I will have the wind of you.
Keep there. Now talk at pleasure of your safety.
How many women saw this child of his?
140Why, so, brave lords! When we join in league,
I am a lamb; but if you brave the Moor,
1705The chafèd boar, the mountain lioness,
The ocean swells not so as Aaron storms.
To the Nurse. But say again, how many saw the
145child?
Cornelia the midwife and myself,
1710And no one else but the delivered Empress.
The Empress, the midwife, and yourself.
Two may keep counsel when the third’s away.
150Go to the Empress; tell her this I said.
He kills her.
“Wheak, wheak”! So cries a pig preparèd to the spit.
1715What mean’st thou, Aaron? Wherefore didst thou this?
O Lord, sir, ’tis a deed of policy.
Shall she live to betray this guilt of ours,
155A long-tongued babbling gossip? No, lords, no.
And now be it known to you my full intent:
1720Not far one Muliteus my countryman
His wife but yesternight was brought to bed.
His child is like to her, fair as you are.
160Go pack with him, and give the mother gold,
And tell them both the circumstance of all,
1725And how by this their child shall be advanced
And be receivèd for the Emperor’s heir,
And substituted in the place of mine,
165To calm this tempest whirling in the court;
And let the Emperor dandle him for his own.
1730Hark you, lords, you see I have given her physic,
indicating the Nurse
And you must needs bestow her funeral.
The fields are near, and you are gallant grooms.
170This done, see that you take no longer days,
But send the midwife presently to me.
1735The midwife and the nurse well made away,
Then let the ladies tattle what they please.
Aaron, I see thou wilt not trust the air
175With secrets.
For this care of Tamora,
1740Herself and hers are highly bound to thee.
Now to the Goths, as swift as swallow flies,
There to dispose this treasure in mine arms
180And secretly to greet the Empress’ friends.—
Come on, you thick-lipped slave, I’ll bear you hence,
1745For it is you that puts us to our shifts.
I’ll make you feed on berries and on roots,
And feed on curds and whey, and suck the goat,
185And cabin in a cave, and bring you up
To be a warrior and command a camp.
1750Come, Marcus, come. Kinsmen, this is the way.—
Sir boy, let me see your archery.
Look you draw home enough and ’tis there straight.—
Terras Astraea reliquit.
5Be you remembered, Marcus, she’s gone, she’s fled.—
1755Sirs, take you to your tools. You, cousins, shall
Go sound the ocean and cast your nets;
Happily you may catch her in the sea;
Yet there’s as little justice as at land.
10No; Publius and Sempronius, you must do it.
1760’Tis you must dig with mattock and with spade,
And pierce the inmost center of the Earth.
Then, when you come to Pluto’s region,
I pray you, deliver him this petition.
15Tell him it is for justice and for aid,
1765And that it comes from old Andronicus,
Shaken with sorrows in ungrateful Rome.
Ah, Rome! Well, well, I made thee miserable
What time I threw the people’s suffrages
20On him that thus doth tyrannize o’er me.
1770Go, get you gone, and pray be careful all,
And leave you not a man-of-war unsearched.
This wicked emperor may have shipped her hence,
And, kinsmen, then we may go pipe for justice.
25O Publius, is not this a heavy case
1775To see thy noble uncle thus distract?
Therefore, my lords, it highly us concerns
By day and night t’ attend him carefully,
And feed his humor kindly as we may,
30Till time beget some careful remedy.
1780Kinsmen, his sorrows are past remedy
But
Join with the Goths, and with revengeful war
Take wreak on Rome for this ingratitude,
35And vengeance on the traitor Saturnine.
1785Publius, how now? How now, my masters?
What, have you met with her?
No, my good lord, but Pluto sends you word,
If you will have Revenge from hell, you shall.
40Marry, for Justice, she is so employed,
1790He thinks, with Jove in heaven, or somewhere else,
So that perforce you must needs stay a time.
He doth me wrong to feed me with delays.
I’ll dive into the burning lake below
45And pull her out of Acheron by the heels.
1795Marcus, we are but shrubs, no cedars we,
No big-boned men framed of the Cyclops’ size,
But metal, Marcus, steel to the very back,
Yet wrung with wrongs more than our backs can
50bear;
1800And sith there’s no justice in Earth nor hell,
We will solicit heaven and move the gods
To send down Justice for to wreak our wrongs.
Come, to this gear. You are a good archer, Marcus.
He gives them the arrows.
55“Ad Jovem,” that’s for you;—here, “Ad Apollinem”;—
1805“Ad Martem,” that’s for myself;—
Here, boy, “to Pallas”;—here, “to Mercury”;—
“To Saturn,” Caius—not to Saturnine!
You were as good to shoot against the wind.
60To it, boy!—Marcus, loose when I bid.
1810Of my word, I have written to effect;
There’s not a god left unsolicited.
Kinsmen, shoot all your shafts into the court.
We will afflict the Emperor in his pride.
65Now, masters, draw. (They shoot.) O, well said,
1815Lucius!
Good boy, in Virgo’s lap! Give it Pallas.
My lord, I aim a mile beyond the moon.
Your letter is with Jupiter by this.
70Ha, ha! Publius, Publius, what hast thou done?
1820See, see, thou hast shot off one of Taurus’ horns!
This was the sport, my lord; when Publius shot,
The Bull, being galled, gave Aries such a knock
That down fell both the Ram’s horns in the court,
75And who should find them but the Empress’ villain?
1825She laughed and told the Moor he should not choose
But give them to his master for a present.
Why, there it goes. God give his Lordship joy!
Enter a country fellow with a basket and two
pigeons in it.
News, news from heaven! Marcus, the post is
80come.—
1830Sirrah, what tidings? Have you any letters?
Shall I have Justice? What says Jupiter?
Ho, the gibbet-maker? He says that
he hath taken them down again, for the man must
85not be hanged till the next week.
1835But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?
Alas, sir, I know not Jubiter; I never
drank with him in all my life.
Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
90Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.
1840Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
From heaven? Alas, sir, I never
came there. God forbid I should be so bold to press
to heaven in my young days. Why, I am going with
95my pigeons to the tribunal plebs, to take up a matter
1845of brawl betwixt my uncle and one of the Emperal’s
men.
Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to
serve for your oration; and let him deliver the pigeons
100to the Emperor from you.
1850Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the Emperor
with a grace?
Nay, truly, sir, I could never say
grace in all my life.
105Sirrah, come hither. Make no more ado,
1855But give your pigeons to the Emperor.
By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.
Hold, hold; meanwhile here’s money for thy
charges.—Give me pen and ink.—Sirrah, can you
110with a grace deliver up a supplication?
1860Ay, sir.
Then here is a supplication for you, and when
you come to him, at the first approach you must
kneel, then kiss his foot, then deliver up your pigeons,
115and then look for your reward. I’ll be at
1865hand, sir. See you do it bravely.
I warrant you, sir. Let me alone.
Sirrah, hast thou a knife? Come, let me see it.—
He takes the knife and gives it to Marcus.
Here, Marcus, fold it in the oration,
120For thou hast made it like an humble suppliant.—
1870And when thou hast given it to the Emperor,
Knock at my door and tell me what he says.
God be with you, sir. I will.
He exits.Come, Marcus, let us go.—Publius, follow me.
They exit.
Why, lords, what wrongs are these! Was ever seen
1875An emperor in Rome thus overborne,
Troubled, confronted thus, and for the extent
Of equal justice, used in such contempt?
5My lords, you know, as know the mightful gods,
However these disturbers of our peace
1880Buzz in the people’s ears, there naught hath passed
But even with law against the willful sons
Of old Andronicus. And what an if
10His sorrows have so overwhelmed his wits?
Shall we be thus afflicted in his wreaks,
1885His fits, his frenzy, and his bitterness?
And now he writes to heaven for his redress!
See, here’s “to Jove,” and this “to Mercury,”
15This “to Apollo,” this to the god of war.
Sweet scrolls to fly about the streets of Rome!
1890What’s this but libeling against the Senate
And blazoning our unjustice everywhere?
A goodly humor is it not, my lords?
20As who would say, in Rome no justice were.
But if I live, his feignèd ecstasies
1895Shall be no shelter to these outrages,
But he and his shall know that justice lives
In Saturninus’ health, whom, if he sleep,
25He’ll so awake as he in fury shall
Cut off the proud’st conspirator that lives.
1900My gracious lord, my lovely Saturnine,
Lord of my life, commander of my thoughts,
Calm thee, and bear the faults of Titus’ age,
30Th’ effects of sorrow for his valiant sons,
Whose loss hath pierced him deep and scarred his
1905heart,
And rather comfort his distressèd plight
Than prosecute the meanest or the best
35For these contempts. (Aside.) Why, thus it shall
become
1910High-witted Tamora to gloze with all.
But, Titus, I have touched thee to the quick.
Thy lifeblood out, if Aaron now be wise,
40Then is all safe, the anchor in the port.
Enter Country Fellow.
How now, good fellow, wouldst thou speak with us?
1915Yea, forsooth, an your Mistresship be
emperial.
Empress I am, but yonder sits the Emperor.
45’Tis he!—God and Saint Stephen
give you good e’en. I have brought you a letter and
1920a couple of pigeons here.
Go, take him away, and hang him presently.
How much money must I have?
50Come, sirrah, you must be hanged.
Hanged! By ’r Lady, then I have
1925brought up a neck to a fair end.
Despiteful and intolerable wrongs!
Shall I endure this monstrous villainy?
55I know from whence this same device proceeds.
May this be borne?—as if his traitorous sons,
1930That died by law for murder of our brother,
Have by my means been butchered wrongfully!
Go, drag the villain hither by the hair.
60Nor age nor honor shall shape privilege.
For this proud mock, I’ll be thy slaughterman,
1935Sly, frantic wretch, that holp’st to make me great
In hope thyself should govern Rome and me.
What news with thee, Aemilius?
65Arm, my lords! Rome never had more cause.
The Goths have gathered head, and with a power
1940Of high-resolvèd men bent to the spoil,
They hither march amain under conduct
Of Lucius, son to old Andronicus,
70Who threats, in course of this revenge, to do
As much as ever Coriolanus did.
1945Is warlike Lucius general of the Goths?
These tidings nip me, and I hang the head
As flowers with frost or grass beat down with storms.
75Ay, now begins our sorrows to approach.
’Tis he the common people love so much.
1950Myself hath often heard them say,
When I have walkèd like a private man,
That Lucius’ banishment was wrongfully,
80And they have wished that Lucius were their emperor.
Why should you fear? Is not your city strong?
1955Ay, but the citizens favor Lucius
And will revolt from me to succor him.
King, be thy thoughts imperious like thy name.
85Is the sun dimmed that gnats do fly in it?
The eagle suffers little birds to sing
1960And is not careful what they mean thereby,
Knowing that with the shadow of his wings
He can at pleasure stint their melody.
90Even so mayst thou the giddy men of Rome.
Then cheer thy spirit, for know, thou emperor,
1965I will enchant the old Andronicus
With words more sweet and yet more dangerous
Than baits to fish or honey-stalks to sheep,
95Whenas the one is wounded with the bait,
The other rotted with delicious feed.
1970But he will not entreat his son for us.
If Tamora entreat him, then he will,
For I can smooth and fill his agèd ears
100With golden promises, that were his heart
Almost impregnable, his old ears deaf,
1975Yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue.
To Aemilius. Go thou before to be our ambassador.
Say that the Emperor requests a parley
105Of warlike Lucius, and appoint the meeting
Even at his father’s house, the old Andronicus.
1980Aemilius, do this message honorably,
And if he stand in hostage for his safety,
Bid him demand what pledge will please him best.
110Your bidding shall I do effectually.
Now will I to that old Andronicus
1985And temper him with all the art I have
To pluck proud Lucius from the warlike Goths.
And now, sweet emperor, be blithe again,
115And bury all thy fear in my devices.
Then go successantly, and plead to him.
1990Approvèd warriors and my faithful friends,
I have receivèd letters from great Rome
Which signifies what hate they bear their emperor
And how desirous of our sight they are.
5Therefore, great lords, be as your titles witness,
1995Imperious, and impatient of your wrongs,
And wherein Rome hath done you any scathe,
Let him make treble satisfaction.
Brave slip sprung from the great Andronicus,
10Whose name was once our terror, now our comfort,
2000Whose high exploits and honorable deeds
Ingrateful Rome requites with foul contempt,
Be bold in us. We’ll follow where thou lead’st,
Like stinging bees in hottest summer’s day
15Led by their master to the flowered fields,
2005And be avenged on cursèd Tamora.
And as he saith, so say we all with him.
I humbly thank him, and I thank you all.
But who comes here, led by a lusty Goth?
20Renownèd Lucius, from our troops I strayed
2010To gaze upon a ruinous monastery,
And as I earnestly did fix mine eye
Upon the wasted building, suddenly
I heard a child cry underneath a wall.
25I made unto the noise, when soon I heard
2015The crying babe controlled with this discourse:
“Peace, tawny slave, half me and half thy dame!
Did not thy hue bewray whose brat thou art,
Had nature lent thee but thy mother’s look,
30Villain, thou mightst have been an emperor.
2020But where the bull and cow are both milk white,
They never do beget a coal-black calf.
Peace, villain, peace!”—even thus he rates the babe—
“For I must bear thee to a trusty Goth
35Who, when he knows thou art the Empress’ babe,
2025Will hold thee dearly for thy mother’s sake.”
With this, my weapon drawn, I rushed upon him,
Surprised him suddenly, and brought him hither
To use as you think needful of the man.
40O worthy Goth, this is the incarnate devil
2030That robbed Andronicus of his good hand;
This is the pearl that pleased your empress’ eye;
And here’s the base fruit of her burning lust.—
Say, wall-eyed slave, whither wouldst thou convey
45This growing image of thy fiendlike face?
2035Why dost not speak? What, deaf? Not a word?—
A halter, soldiers! Hang him on this tree,
And by his side his fruit of bastardy.
Touch not the boy. He is of royal blood.
50Too like the sire for ever being good.
2040First hang the child, that he may see it sprawl,
A sight to vex the father’s soul withal.
Get me a ladder.
Lucius, save the child
55And bear it from me to the Empress.
2045If thou do this, I’ll show thee wondrous things
That highly may advantage thee to hear.
If thou wilt not, befall what may befall,
I’ll speak no more but “Vengeance rot you all!”
60Say on, and if it please me which thou speak’st,
2050Thy child shall live, and I will see it nourished.
And if it please thee? Why, assure thee, Lucius,
’Twill vex thy soul to hear what I shall speak;
For I must talk of murders, rapes, and massacres,
65Acts of black night, abominable deeds,
2055Complots of mischief, treason, villainies,
Ruthful to hear, yet piteously performed.
And this shall all be buried in my death,
Unless thou swear to me my child shall live.
70Tell on thy mind. I say thy child shall live.
2060Swear that he shall, and then I will begin.
Who should I swear by? Thou believest no god.
That granted, how canst thou believe an oath?
What if I do not? As indeed I do not.
75Yet, for I know thou art religious
2065And hast a thing within thee callèd conscience,
With twenty popish tricks and ceremonies
Which I have seen thee careful to observe,
Therefore I urge thy oath; for that I know
80An idiot holds his bauble for a god
2070And keeps the oath which by that god he swears,
To that I’ll urge him. Therefore thou shalt vow
By that same god, what god soe’er it be
That thou adorest and hast in reverence,
85To save my boy, to nourish and bring him up,
2075Or else I will discover naught to thee.
Even by my god I swear to thee I will.
First know thou, I begot him on the Empress.
O, most insatiate and luxurious woman!
90Tut, Lucius, this was but a deed of charity
2080To that which thou shalt hear of me anon.
’Twas her two sons that murdered Bassianus.
They cut thy sister’s tongue, and ravished her,
And cut her hands, and trimmed her as thou sawest.
95O detestable villain, call’st thou that trimming?
2085Why, she was washed, and cut, and trimmed; and
’twas
Trim sport for them which had the doing of it.
O, barbarous beastly villains, like thyself!
100Indeed, I was their tutor to instruct them.
2090That codding spirit had they from their mother,
As sure a card as ever won the set;
That bloody mind I think they learned of me,
As true a dog as ever fought at head.
105Well, let my deeds be witness of my worth.
2095I trained thy brethren to that guileful hole
Where the dead corpse of Bassianus lay.
I wrote the letter that thy father found,
And hid the gold within that letter mentioned,
110Confederate with the Queen and her two sons.
2100And what not done that thou hast cause to rue,
Wherein I had no stroke of mischief in it?
I played the cheater for thy father’s hand,
And, when I had it, drew myself apart
115And almost broke my heart with extreme laughter.
2105I pried me through the crevice of a wall
When, for his hand, he had his two sons’ heads,
Beheld his tears, and laughed so heartily
That both mine eyes were rainy like to his.
120And when I told the Empress of this sport,
2110She sounded almost at my pleasing tale,
And for my tidings gave me twenty kisses.
What, canst thou say all this and never blush?
Ay, like a black dog, as the saying is.
125Art thou not sorry for these heinous deeds?
2115Ay, that I had not done a thousand more.
Even now I curse the day—and yet, I think,
Few come within the compass of my curse—
Wherein I did not some notorious ill,
130As kill a man, or else devise his death;
2120Ravish a maid or plot the way to do it;
Accuse some innocent and forswear myself;
Set deadly enmity between two friends;
Make poor men’s cattle break their necks;
135Set fire on barns and haystalks in the night,
2125And bid the owners quench them with their tears.
Oft have I digged up dead men from their graves
And set them upright at their dear friends’ door,
Even when their sorrows almost was forgot,
140And on their skins, as on the bark of trees,
2130Have with my knife carvèd in Roman letters
“Let not your sorrow die, though I am dead.”
But I have done a thousand dreadful things
As willingly as one would kill a fly,
145And nothing grieves me heartily indeed
2135But that I cannot do ten thousand more.
Bring down the devil, for he must not die
So sweet a death as hanging presently.
If there be devils, would I were a devil,
150To live and burn in everlasting fire,
2140So I might have your company in hell
But to torment you with my bitter tongue.
Sirs, stop his mouth, and let him speak no more.
My lord, there is a messenger from Rome
155Desires to be admitted to your presence.
2145Let him come near.Aemilius comes forward.
Welcome, Aemilius. What’s the news from Rome?
Lord Lucius, and you princes of the Goths,
The Roman Emperor greets you all by me;
160And, for he understands you are in arms,
2150He craves a parley at your father’s house,
Willing you to demand your hostages,
And they shall be immediately delivered.
What says our general?
165Aemilius, let the Emperor give his pledges
2155Unto my father and my uncle Marcus,
And we will come. March away.
Thus, in this strange and sad habiliment
I will encounter with Andronicus
And say I am Revenge, sent from below
2160To join with him and right his heinous wrongs.
5Knock at his study, where they say he keeps
To ruminate strange plots of dire revenge.
Tell him Revenge is come to join with him
And work confusion on his enemies.
2165Who doth molest my contemplation?
10Is it your trick to make me ope the door,
That so my sad decrees may fly away
And all my study be to no effect?
You are deceived, for what I mean to do,
2170See here, in bloody lines I have set down,
15And what is written shall be executed.
Titus, I am come to talk with thee.
No, not a word. How can I grace my talk,
Wanting a hand to give it action?
2175Thou hast the odds of me; therefore, no more.
20If thou didst know me, thou wouldst talk with me.
I am not mad. I know thee well enough.
Witness this wretched stump; witness these crimson
lines;
2180Witness these trenches made by grief and care;
25Witness the tiring day and heavy night;
Witness all sorrow that I know thee well
For our proud empress, mighty Tamora.
Is not thy coming for my other hand?
2185Know, thou sad man, I am not Tamora.
30She is thy enemy, and I thy friend.
I am Revenge, sent from th’ infernal kingdom
To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind
By working wreakful vengeance on thy foes.
2190Come down and welcome me to this world’s light.
35Confer with me of murder and of death.
There’s not a hollow cave or lurking-place,
No vast obscurity or misty vale
Where bloody murder or detested rape
2195Can couch for fear but I will find them out,
40And in their ears tell them my dreadful name,
Revenge, which makes the foul offender quake.
Art thou Revenge? And art thou sent to me
To be a torment to mine enemies?
2200I am. Therefore come down and welcome me.
45Do me some service ere I come to thee.
Lo, by thy side, where Rape and Murder stands,
Now give some surance that thou art Revenge:
Stab them, or tear them on thy chariot wheels,
2205And then I’ll come and be thy wagoner,
50And whirl along with thee about the globe,
Provide thee two proper palfreys, black as jet,
To hale thy vengeful wagon swift away,
And find out murderers in their guilty caves.
2210And when thy car is loaden with their heads,
55I will dismount and by thy wagon wheel
Trot like a servile footman all day long,
Even from Hyperion’s rising in the east
Until his very downfall in the sea.
2215And day by day I’ll do this heavy task,
60So thou destroy Rapine and Murder there.
These are my ministers and come with me.
Are they thy ministers? What are they called?
Rape and Murder; therefore callèd so
2220’Cause they take vengeance of such kind of men.
65Good Lord, how like the Empress’ sons they are,
And you the Empress! But we worldly men
Have miserable, mad, mistaking eyes.
O sweet Revenge, now do I come to thee,
2225And if one arm’s embracement will content thee,
70I will embrace thee in it by and by.
This closing with him fits his lunacy.
Whate’er I forge to feed his brainsick humors,
Do you uphold and maintain in your speeches,
2230For now he firmly takes me for Revenge;
75And, being credulous in this mad thought,
I’ll make him send for Lucius his son;
And whilst I at a banquet hold him sure,
I’ll find some cunning practice out of hand
2235To scatter and disperse the giddy Goths,
80Or, at the least, make them his enemies.
See, here he comes, and I must ply my theme.
Long have I been forlorn, and all for thee.
Welcome, dread Fury, to my woeful house.—
2240Rapine and Murder, you are welcome too.
85How like the Empress and her sons you are!
Well are you fitted, had you but a Moor.
Could not all hell afford you such a devil?
For well I wot the Empress never wags
2245But in her company there is a Moor;
90And, would you represent our queen aright,
It were convenient you had such a devil.
But welcome as you are. What shall we do?
What wouldst thou have us do, Andronicus?
2250Show me a murderer; I’ll deal with him.
95Show me a villain that hath done a rape,
And I am sent to be revenged on him.
Show me a thousand that hath done thee wrong,
And I will be revengèd on them all.
2255Look round about the wicked streets of Rome,
100And when thou findst a man that’s like thyself,
Good Murder, stab him; he’s a murderer.
To Chiron. Go thou with him, and when it is thy
hap
2260To find another that is like to thee,
105Good Rapine, stab him; he is a ravisher.
To Tamora. Go thou with them; and in the
Emperor’s court
There is a queen attended by a Moor.
2265Well shalt thou know her by thine own proportion,
110For up and down she doth resemble thee.
I pray thee, do on them some violent death.
They have been violent to me and mine.
Well hast thou lessoned us; this shall we do.
2270But would it please thee, good Andronicus,
115To send for Lucius, thy thrice-valiant son,
Who leads towards Rome a band of warlike Goths,
And bid him come and banquet at thy house?
When he is here, even at thy solemn feast,
2275I will bring in the Empress and her sons,
120The Emperor himself, and all thy foes,
And at thy mercy shall they stoop and kneel,
And on them shalt thou ease thy angry heart.
What says Andronicus to this device?
2280Marcus, my brother, ’tis sad Titus calls.
Enter Marcus.
125Go, gentle Marcus, to thy nephew Lucius.
Thou shalt inquire him out among the Goths.
Bid him repair to me and bring with him
Some of the chiefest princes of the Goths.
2285Bid him encamp his soldiers where they are.
130Tell him the Emperor and the Empress too
Feast at my house, and he shall feast with them.
This do thou for my love, and so let him,
As he regards his agèd father’s life.
2290This will I do, and soon return again.
135Now will I hence about thy business
And take my ministers along with me.
Nay, nay, let Rape and Murder stay with me,
Or else I’ll call my brother back again
2295And cleave to no revenge but Lucius.
140What say you, boys? Will you abide with him
Whiles I go tell my lord the Emperor
How I have governed our determined jest?
Yield to his humor, smooth and speak him fair,
2300And tarry with him till I turn again.
145I knew them all, though they supposed me mad,
And will o’erreach them in their own devices—
A pair of cursèd hellhounds and their dam!
Madam, depart at pleasure. Leave us here.
2305Farewell, Andronicus. Revenge now goes
150To lay a complot to betray thy foes.
I know thou dost; and, sweet Revenge, farewell.
Tell us, old man, how shall we be employed?
Tut, I have work enough for you to do.—
2310Publius, come hither; Caius, and Valentine.
155What is your will?
Know you these two?
The Empress’ sons, I take them—Chiron, Demetrius.
Fie, Publius, fie, thou art too much deceived.
2315The one is Murder, and Rape is the other’s name;
160And therefore bind them, gentle Publius.
Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them.
Oft have you heard me wish for such an hour,
And now I find it. Therefore bind them sure,
2320And stop their mouths if they begin to cry.
165Villains, forbear! We are the Empress’ sons.
And therefore do we what we are commanded.—
Stop close their mouths; let them not speak a word.
Is he sure bound? Look that you bind them fast.
2325Come, come, Lavinia. Look, thy foes are bound.—
170Sirs, stop their mouths. Let them not speak to me,
But let them hear what fearful words I utter.—
O villains, Chiron and Demetrius!
Here stands the spring whom you have stained with
2330mud,
175This goodly summer with your winter mixed.
You killed her husband, and for that vile fault
Two of her brothers were condemned to death,
My hand cut off and made a merry jest,
2335Both her sweet hands, her tongue, and that more dear
180Than hands or tongue, her spotless chastity,
Inhuman traitors, you constrained and forced.
What would you say if I should let you speak?
Villains, for shame you could not beg for grace.
2340Hark, wretches, how I mean to martyr you.
185This one hand yet is left to cut your throats,
Whiles that Lavinia ’tween her stumps doth hold
The basin that receives your guilty blood.
You know your mother means to feast with me,
2345And calls herself Revenge, and thinks me mad.
190Hark, villains, I will grind your bones to dust,
And with your blood and it I’ll make a paste,
And of the paste a coffin I will rear,
And make two pasties of your shameful heads,
2350And bid that strumpet, your unhallowed dam,
195Like to the earth swallow her own increase.
This is the feast that I have bid her to,
And this the banquet she shall surfeit on;
For worse than Philomel you used my daughter,
2355And worse than Procne I will be revenged.
200And now prepare your throats.—Lavinia, come,
Receive the blood.He cuts their throats.
And when that they are dead,
Let me go grind their bones to powder small,
2360And with this hateful liquor temper it,
205And in that paste let their vile heads be baked.
Come, come, be everyone officious
To make this banquet, which I wish may prove
More stern and bloody than the Centaurs’ feast.
2365So. Now bring them in, for I’ll play the cook
210And see them ready against their mother comes.
Uncle Marcus, since ’tis my father’s mind
That I repair to Rome, I am content.
And ours with thine, befall what fortune will.
2370Good uncle, take you in this barbarous Moor,
5This ravenous tiger, this accursèd devil.
Let him receive no sust’nance. Fetter him
Till he be brought unto the Empress’ face
For testimony of her foul proceedings.
2375And see the ambush of our friends be strong.
10I fear the Emperor means no good to us.
Some devil whisper curses in my ear
And prompt me that my tongue may utter forth
The venomous malice of my swelling heart.
2380Away, inhuman dog, unhallowed slave!—
15Sirs, help our uncle to convey him in.
Sound trumpets.
The trumpets show the Emperor is at hand.
What, hath the firmament more suns than one?
What boots it thee to call thyself a sun?
2385Rome’s emperor, and nephew, break the parle.
20These quarrels must be quietly debated.
The feast is ready which the careful Titus
Hath ordained to an honorable end,
For peace, for love, for league and good to Rome.
2390Please you therefore draw nigh and take your places.
25Marcus, we will.
Trumpets sounding, enter Titus like a cook, placing the
Welcome, my lord;—welcome, dread queen;—
Welcome, you warlike Goths;—welcome, Lucius;—
And welcome, all. Although the cheer be poor,
2395’Twill fill your stomachs. Please you eat of it.
30Why art thou thus attired, Andronicus?
Because I would be sure to have all well
To entertain your Highness and your empress.
We are beholding to you, good Andronicus.
2400An if your Highness knew my heart, you were.—
35My lord the Emperor, resolve me this:
Was it well done of rash Virginius
To slay his daughter with his own right hand
Because she was enforced, stained, and deflowered?
2405It was, Andronicus.
40Your reason, mighty lord?
Because the girl should not survive her shame,
And by her presence still renew his sorrows.
A reason mighty, strong, and effectual;
2410A pattern, precedent, and lively warrant
45For me, most wretched, to perform the like.
Die, die, Lavinia, and thy shame with thee,
And with thy shame thy father’s sorrow die.
What hast thou done, unnatural and unkind?
2415Killed her for whom my tears have made me blind.
50I am as woeful as Virginius was,
And have a thousand times more cause than he
To do this outrage, and it now is done.
What, was she ravished? Tell who did the deed.
2420Will ’t please you eat?—Will ’t please your Highness
55feed?
Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?
Not I; ’twas Chiron and Demetrius.
They ravished her and cut away her tongue,
2425And they, ’twas they, that did her all this wrong.
60Go fetch them hither to us presently.
Why, there they are, both bakèd in this pie,
Whereof their mother daintily hath fed,
Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred.
2430’Tis true, ’tis true! Witness my knife’s sharp point.
65Die, frantic wretch, for this accursèd deed.
Can the son’s eye behold his father bleed?
He kills Saturninus.
There’s meed for meed, death for a deadly deed.
You sad-faced men, people and sons of Rome,
2435By uproars severed as a flight of fowl
70Scattered by winds and high tempestuous gusts,
O, let me teach you how to knit again
This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf,
These broken limbs again into one body,
2440Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself,
75And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to,
Like a forlorn and desperate castaway,
Do shameful execution on herself.
But if my frosty signs and chaps of age,
2445Grave witnesses of true experience,
80Cannot induce you to attend my words,
He turns to Lucius.
Speak, Rome’s dear friend, as erst our ancestor,
When with his solemn tongue he did discourse
To lovesick Dido’s sad-attending ear
2450The story of that baleful burning night
85When subtle Greeks surprised King Priam’s Troy.
Tell us what Sinon hath bewitched our ears,
Or who hath brought the fatal engine in
That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.—
2455My heart is not compact of flint nor steel,
90Nor can I utter all our bitter grief,
But floods of tears will drown my oratory
And break my utterance even in the time
When it should move you to attend me most
2460And force you to commiseration.
95Here’s Rome’s young captain. Let him tell the tale,
While I stand by and weep to hear him speak.
Then, gracious auditory, be it known to you
That Chiron and the damned Demetrius
2465Were they that murderèd our emperor’s brother,
100And they it were that ravishèd our sister.
For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded,
Our father’s tears despised, and basely cozened
Of that true hand that fought Rome’s quarrel out
2470And sent her enemies unto the grave;
105Lastly, myself unkindly banishèd,
The gates shut on me, and turned weeping out
To beg relief among Rome’s enemies,
Who drowned their enmity in my true tears
2475And oped their arms to embrace me as a friend.
110I am the turned-forth, be it known to you,
That have preserved her welfare in my blood
And from her bosom took the enemy’s point,
Sheathing the steel in my advent’rous body.
2480Alas, you know I am no vaunter, I;
115My scars can witness, dumb although they are,
That my report is just and full of truth.
But soft, methinks I do digress too much,
Citing my worthless praise. O, pardon me,
2485For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.
120Now is my turn to speak. Behold the child.
Of this was Tamora deliverèd,
The issue of an irreligious Moor,
Chief architect and plotter of these woes.
2490The villain is alive in Titus’ house,
125And as he is to witness, this is true.
Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge
These wrongs unspeakable, past patience,
Or more than any living man could bear.
2495Now have you heard the truth. What say you,
130Romans?
Have we done aught amiss? Show us wherein,
And from the place where you behold us pleading,
The poor remainder of Andronici
2500Will, hand in hand, all headlong hurl ourselves,
135And on the ragged stones beat forth our souls,
And make a mutual closure of our house.
Speak, Romans, speak, and if you say we shall,
Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.
2505Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome,
140And bring our emperor gently in thy hand,
Lucius our emperor, for well I know
The common voice do cry it shall be so.
Lucius, all hail, Rome’s royal emperor!
2510Go, go into old Titus’ sorrowful house,
145And hither hale that misbelieving Moor
To be adjudged some direful slaught’ring death
As punishment for his most wicked life.
Lucius, all hail, Rome’s gracious governor!
2515Thanks, gentle Romans. May I govern so
150To heal Rome’s harms and wipe away her woe!
But, gentle people, give me aim awhile,
For nature puts me to a heavy task.
Stand all aloof, but, uncle, draw you near
2520To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk.
He kisses Titus.
155O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips,
These sorrowful drops upon thy bloodstained face,
The last true duties of thy noble son.
Tear for tear, and loving kiss for kiss,
2525Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips.
He kisses Titus.
160O, were the sum of these that I should pay
Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them.
Come hither, boy. Come, come, and learn of us
To melt in showers. Thy grandsire loved thee well.
2530Many a time he danced thee on his knee,
165Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow;
Many a story hath he told to thee,
And bid thee bear his pretty tales in mind
And talk of them when he was dead and gone.
2535How many thousand times hath these poor lips,
170When they were living, warmed themselves on thine!
O, now, sweet boy, give them their latest kiss.
Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave.
Do them that kindness, and take leave of them.
2540O grandsire, grandsire, ev’n with all my heart
175Would I were dead so you did live again!
He kisses Titus.
O Lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping.
My tears will choke me if I ope my mouth.
You sad Andronici, have done with woes.
2545Give sentence on this execrable wretch
180That hath been breeder of these dire events.
Set him breast-deep in earth and famish him.
There let him stand and rave and cry for food.
If anyone relieves or pities him,
2550For the offense he dies. This is our doom.
185Some stay to see him fastened in the earth.
Ah, why should wrath be mute and fury dumb?
I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
I should repent the evils I have done.
2555Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
190Would I perform, if I might have my will.
If one good deed in all my life I did,
I do repent it from my very soul.
Some loving friends convey the Emperor hence,
2560And give him burial in his fathers’ grave.
195My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
Be closèd in our household’s monument.
As for that ravenous tiger, Tamora,
No funeral rite, nor man in mourning weed;
2565No mournful bell shall ring her burial;
200But throw her forth to beasts and birds to prey.
Her life was beastly and devoid of pity,
And being dead, let birds on her take pity.